A Voice Once Stentorian
by casualcorvid
Summary: Snapshots of Natsume's childhood as seen by his teachers.
1. Meek

**A/N: Hiya! You'll notice this is not the next chapter of You Know How To Get Along Humming. See, this was originally that and then became a separate one-shot which became a whole separate thing because I plan to write 1K and the universe laughs. This is also significantly darker (though I promise it does end happy!) so I figured best to put it up as its own thing. Please heed the warnings. But the next chapter of You Know How To Get Along Humming and the next chapter of this should be up within a week or two. So much.. outsider pov... at some point I promise I will write something else! I have a spirit-of-the-week angst-fest planned as soon as I finish this series. Title is from the incomparable Fiona Apple.**

* * *

Ms. Ono had never met a student she didn't adore. She had only been teaching three years, yes, and it was a somewhat rural area with not a lot of students but still - she loved the kids and was absolutely positive they felt the same way about her. She was irrepressibly bubbly, patient, and loved her job; everything a teacher should be, in her opinion. So yes: she loved her students.

But Natsume Takashi was making it _very_ difficult. It wasn't that he was rude, she had successfully dealt with rude children before. It wasn't that he was slow, no, if anything he was a quick learner, if a bit behind due to having recently transferred. No, instead he was the worst kind of problem child: an extremely disruptive one.

Not in the way she had typically encountered, either. He wasn't overly talkative to others or even to himself. He was much more unsettling than that. He would just… yell. Yell and cry and look so absolutely terrified that she still had trouble not letting her heart sink into her stomach as she suppressed the knee-jerk panic that seeing a child make such an expression automatically induced in her. This had happened upwards of 6 times since he had first arrived in her classroom only a few weeks ago. He was just so… complicated.

Ms. Ono had tried calming him down herself the first time, of course. She had wrapped a comforting arm around the poor boy, gently asking what was wrong. The other children had gone quiet, unsure of what to do. While it normally didn't get this bad, children this age did cry and would throw the odd tantrum or two. Nothing unusual, really. Then Natsume, through his hysterical tears, had pointed a shaking finger at an empty corner of the classroom. This was a bit more unusual, but certainly not unheard of. Children had big imaginations, after all. It was one of the things she liked about working with kids.

After a second, his gaze slid to her and Natsume grabbed the hem of her jacket. His eye were wide and lips trembling as he whispered "Can't you see it?"

She made a show of exaggeratedly looking over the corner and then shaking her head, hoping to calm him down. She wasn't expecting him to wail in despair, choking out "But- but when other kids see invisible things you say you can too!"

She had played along with children's imaginary friends before, sure. Usually when the kids were out at recess and she was fielding fifteen different calls for her attention. She had wanted to encourage their creativity. None of them had been outright terrified of their made-up friends before. This was odd.

"It's make believe, Natsume. Just pretend. There's nothing there." she tried, all the while rubbing soothing circles into the trembling boy's back.

"No," Natsume began, twisting out from her arm. "No, I'm not making it up. I thought here they would be gone, but one followed me, or- or one lives here too. It's there. " He backed up until he was on the other side of the classroom, glaring at the empty corner. "I'm not a liar!" He added in a yell, glancing at the other kids for the first time during this whole exchange.

Ms. Ono was at a complete loss for the first time in her career. This was disturbing. She had never seen a child act so frenzied for no reason like this. Her heart breaking at the sight of his little tear-stained face. She hesitantly sent him to the bathroom to clean up a bit. Really, she was just stalling, she needed a second to figure out what to do.

He started to shake his head, leaning around her to look in the corner. She moved bodily into his line of sight, and gently smiled when she caught his eye. "It's okay, I'll get rid of the monster while you're gone, okay?"

A shocked smile broke out on his face. "You do see it!" he exclaimed excitedly. Her smile slipped a bit, but didn't fall. This was an unusual incident, but that didn't mean she had to treat it as such. She had tried to convince him it wasn't real and that didn't work, so playing along only made sense.

"Yep, so you go wash your face, okay?" He nodded enthusiastically, rushing out of the classroom. She absently noticed that he had even grabbed his arm so hard they had bruised in his panic. She let her smile drop and took a deep breath before turning back to the rest of class, a good majority of whom looked shaken as well, the poor darlings. She worked on soothing them, explaining that sometimes our imaginations got the best of us and it was scary, and that was okay. Most of the kids seemed to accept this, but one boy, Uchida, made a face.

"Uchida?" Ms. Ono asked, concerned. She didn't want the other kids scared or angry about Natsume. Best to address this right away.

"He's a liar!" Uchida burst out passionately. "I walk home with him sometimes. He lies about seeing stuff all the time. "

Before she could respond, Natsume burst back into the classroom, skittering to a halt just inside the door to the classroom. He hadn't done a great job of cleaning up his face, and his eyes were still red and puffy. His gaze instantly went back to the far corner of the room.

"See?" Ms. Ono said grandly. "All gone! No more monster, right?" in her experience, confidence was the way to go.

Natsume made a face similar to the one Uchida had just pulled a few seconds earlier. "No, it's right there," he pointed his finger back toward the corner.

"No, it's gone, silly." Ms. Ono responded aiming for (and mostly succeeding) at sounding upbeat. Natsume shook his head vehemently. Ms. Ono ignored the loud _I told you!_ Uchida yelled to her right.

"You told me you could see it." Natsume said, lip beginning to wobble again. "Why would you say that if it wasn't true?" He asked, his tone turning outright accusatory toward the end. Ms. Ono was a pretty patient person, but being called a liar by a 7 year old because she couldn't see his scary imaginary friend was a bit absurd.

Deciding not to address his hostility outright, she put on her sternest tone she was comfortable using with the kids and told Natsume firmly to return to his seat. He glanced fearfully up at the corner and then returned his gaze to her face, his expression torn between anger and betrayal. She felt sorry for him, of course, but she couldn't continue to humor him when it was disrupting the whole class. Making a great show of his reluctance via dragged feet and a hanging head, Natsume slumped down in his seat, leaning bodily away from the corner.

* * *

She was significantly less patient and gentle with him now. It was, absurdly, the 7th time this had happened. It was just so weird . He was cheerful and sweet most of the time and then a veritable nightmare during these little fits. She had never seen anything like it.

As per usual, his eyes were welled up with tears. They really were kind of a weird color, she noted uncomfortably. Along with his noticeably pale skin, it helped to contribute to how disturbing these fits were. This time he was yelling at the corner, instead of her. Interesting. He had only done that once before.

This was exhausting. She searched desperately for kindness but found stony stoicism was the best she could do. No other student had been this trying.

Completely over the whole situation and not wanting to let this odd display continue to disturb the entire class yet again , she briskly crossed the room and reached out to usher Natsume to the principal's office to let her sort it out. Ms. Ono wasn't sure exactly Principal Moriyama had doing to deal with him, but Natsume always came back quiet and compliant, so she wasn't complaining. At this point he almost spent more time in her office than in the classroom.

As she reached for him, Natsume flinched away from her outstretched arm, tear-tracked face flinching away, an arm coming up to protect his head. His wrist had bruises. Finger-shaped bruises.

Ms. Ono felt her stomach sink yet again, her arm freezing midair. Oh, this was bad. She had been trained to recognize what things like this could mean. Her mind was racing. This made his outbursts make a bit more sense. It explained a lot about Natsume, actually.

She let her arm drop. "C'mon," she began in her most saccharine tone. "You're not in trouble, Natsume, we just need to go talk. It's okay."

Natsume slowly let his own arm fall and silently walked out of the classroom. Ms. Ono ducked her head into the classroom next door and asked Mr. Watanabe to keep an eye on her kids for a few minutes. Mr. Watanabe's eyes flickered to Natsume and he rolled his eyes good-naturedly, winking at Ms. Ono and shooting her a playful thumbs up. Ms. Ono felt guilt crash over her. Natsume was a joke between the two of them at this point and the whole time it was because... They could have never known- she had never had to deal with- she didn't know.

Feeling somewhat sick, she shot Mr. Watanabe a wane smile and led Natsume to Principal Moriyama's office.

Ms. Ono was completely out of her depth her, but she thought she made the right choice to leave Natsume sitting outside the office to wait as she struggled to explain what she saw, what she thought it might mean.

Principal Moriyama looked distinctly unmoved by Ms. Ono's stuttered explanation of what she suspected might be happening to Natsume.

She leaned back her chair, fingers steepled, gaze unreadable as she stared at Ms. Ono. Nervously, Ms. Ono played with the hem of her skirt as the silence continued.

"Natsume is a liar." Principal Moriyama began in a steady voice. Ms. Ono opened her mouth to object, horrified, but was silenced by a commanding hand. "He is. That's a fact."

Ms. Ono suppressed her knee-jerk emotional response, knowing Principal Moriyama would be unimpressed by such a display, and considered this.

"Fine, yes. You know I've had trouble with him," Ms. Ono eventually allowed, "But that doesn't explain the flinching or the bruises."

"Have you never seen him 'flinch' at his imaginary monsters?" Principal Moriyama asked, her tone blandly curious. "Because I have. It looks very convincing. But there's nothing there for him to fear."

Ms. Ono dutifully considered this as well. She had seen him flinch at his made-up creatures, and it had looked very similar to what he had done today. Almost identical, in fact… maybe she had been too quick to react. She hadn't thought of that at all.

Ms. Ono nodded her acquiescence. "But… the bruises?" she asked hesitantly, unable to stop herself from hoping for a rational, benign explanation. Something manageable, something she could deal with.

"I'm almost positive he hurts himself. I've seen him grab at his arms, and the finger marks are too small to be a man's, and Natsume's current guardian is his 2nd cousin, a young man named Kaito. Unless you've seen differently?"

Ms. Ono thought carefully. The bruises on his wrist had been awfully small. And considering Natsume's lying problem, this kind of escalation made sense. She couldn't prevent herself from flushing as she responded, "Maybe… maybe I was too hasty."

Principal Moriyama nodded benevolently. "You're a worrier, and you're kind. You're always looking for the good," she began, sounding gentle for the first time during this conversation. "It's what makes you a good teacher. But you're inexperienced. Some kids are rougher than you're used to."

Ms. Ono nodded, chastened. "I'm still worried about his… outbursts. Even more so if they're getting worse like this." She explained, giving voice to her last remaining concern.

Principal Moriyama nodded again. "Yes, they are rather concerning. You'll have to bring it up with his guardian at Parent Night next month if this doesn't improve immediately. You know I've been hesitant to bother them, considering the circumstances. But this is getting absurd."

"I know it's complicated. Hopefully things will get better." Ms. Ono offered up. Principal Moriyama smiled.

"Ah, there's that trademark optimism," Principal Moriyama said, almost fondly. "Still, best to start preparing how to bring this up now. You can go back to class, Ms. Ono. Please send Natsume in on your way out."

Recognizing it for the clear dismissal it was, Ms. Ono stood up and began heading toward the door. Her knees were so weak with relief she almost couldn't walk. This wasn't anything more sinister or complicated, just more of Natsume's issues. Which were sad, of course. But she could deal with this level of sad.

She exited the office and turned to the chairs to the left of the office. He was sitting right where she left him, hunched over his knees, eyes downcast. He really was a frail looking thing, his shirt fitting loosely, not yet tall enough for his feet to touch the floor. Add in that he was an orphan, it was so easy to get wrapped up in pity for him. Really, she should have known better than to fall for it.

"Principal Moriyama wants to see you now." She said, just a bit too loud. He startled at her voice, and she uncharitably wondered if he was faking that too. "C'mon, go on in."

He avoided her eyes as he hopped off the chair and opened the door with the ease of familiarity. The last thing Ms. Ono heard before the door closed was Principal Moriyama's wry voice ring out: "Ah, so we meet again, Natsume."

* * *

There was only one incident in between the meeting in the principal's office and Parent Night. Whatever Principal Moriyama had said that day seemed to really make an impact on Natsume. Still, one incident was still one too many, so Ms. Ono resolved to bring it up.

Parent night was always chaos, but generally it was fun chaos. Very rarely did she have issues with her students outside of typical, minor things, so it was usually just a way to brag about the children's improvements. For the most part the night progressed as usual, though she was unable to shake her nervousness at the idea of dealing with Natsume. She had scheduled his guardian's appointment for last, fearing it would go over the allotted time-slot, but now she was regretting not just getting the most difficult part of the evening out of the way.

Eventually, the meeting time rolled around. Then 5 minutes after rolled around too. Ms. Ono felt her jitters turn to annoyance as 5 minutes became 15. Just as she was considering calling Natsume's guardian, a petite woman strode into the office, Natsume walking sullenly in behind her.

Ms. Ono rose from her desk, smiling in greeting. The woman either didn't notice or didn't care to return the smile, instead throwing herself into one of the chairs set out in front of Ms. Ono's desk. Natsume lingered in the doorway, and just as Ms. Ono was about to ask him to join them, the woman snapped out, "Get over here! Now. Sit down."

Natsume scurried over to the other chair, never looking up from his shoes.

"Are you Natsume's guardian?" Ms. Ono asked, somewhat confused. She was sure that Natsume's guardian was a man. The woman snorted. "My fiance is. But he's out of town, as per usual, so it's just the two of us." The words were innocuous, if a bit annoyed, but the look of contempt that accompanied them were not.

"Ah." Ms. Ono responded. "Well, I'm Ms. Ono, Natsume's teacher. He's a very bright student."

"Really." The woman-who still hadn't offered her name- didn't even attempt to temper her scepticism. "Well, good for him."

Ms. Ono was taken aback by such an abrupt response, but still tried to understand. The woman was quite young, and very beautiful. She probably wasn't quite used to being the fiance of a guardian to a child yet. It had only been a few months, and was quite a big change for anyone.

Reasonably pleased with this interpretation, Ms. Ono tried to rally. "Yes, especially with reading-"

The woman leaned forward and interrupted her. "Look. The principal lady on the phone said that someone had to come in to talk about Natsume's behavioral issues. So here I am. I'd prefer to skip to that, if it's all the same to you."

Ms. Ono swallowed, completely surprised by this, and glanced at Natsume. He was still staring at the ground, but she could see a flush spread across his cheeks. She couldn't help but feel bad for him, but still. They really did need to talk about it, and any parent would be unhappy with the knowledge that their kid was a troublemaker.

"Ah, yes, okay. Natsume has quite the vivid imagination-" she started, talking over the woman's snide response of _that's one word for it,_ "-and it's been causing some problems. He gets… hysterical. We're all very worried about him."

The woman rolled her eyes. "He's a liar and a crybaby, we know. Look, lady. We've tried everything and he doesn't stop."

Ms. Ono saw Natsume turn the direction opposite of the woman out of the corner of her eye. "Well, things have definitely been getting better here at school, but it still is disrupting the class and hindering the other student's learning."

"Well, you'll be relieved to know that he's being sent with some other relatives in Okazaki. So he'll be out of both of our hairs next week."

Ms. Ono had been surprised by most of this conversation, but this revelation positively flummoxed her. "Oh. You and your fiance don't want to keep him? Haven't you only had him a few months?" She blurted out unthinkingly, shock jarring her into blunt honesty.

The woman's face completely shut down. "We- _I_ \- took care of him for months. You're tired of him and you only have him during school hours. Imagine how I feel? The lying, the crying, the whining- it's exhausting. I had to put off school for this. Don't start with me, okay?"

Ms. Ono looked back to Natsume, who was still staring stoically in the other direction. She felt awful for him, having to hear this. But she couldn't stop the wave of relief. Natsume was a mess of issues beyond her capabilities.

"Well." Ms. Ono cleared her throat. "I guess there's no point in addressing it here." She felt a stab of sympathy for whatever new teacher he was going to have.

"Great." The woman said shortly, rising from her seat. "C'mon, Natsume, let's go then." Natsume didn't show any sign that he had heard her, still staring off into the corner of the room.

With an impatient huff and an eyeroll, the woman roughly grabbed Natsume's wrist and yanked him to his feet. "Let's _go._ "

It was with a detached kind of comprehension that Ms. Ono realized that the woman's petite, slender fingers perfectly matched the bruise on Natsume's wrist. The bruise that never really seemed to go away, the bruise she had been so sure was self-inflicted.

The feeling of numbness persisted as the woman and Natsume left. She knew, objectively, that this was wrong. She had been wrong, Principal Moriyama had been wrong. But… Natsume was leaving soon anyway. And he was still an incredibly troubled child, and had been since day one. Not to mention a liar. It was a messy, tricky situation. She missed the surety that simplicity had guaranteed her. Natsume was complicated and it was just too much for her.

So she let them leave without a word.


	2. Muffled

Mrs. Yamamoto was one year away from getting her pension and being able to retire. She had _more_ than earned her retirement: working as a middle-school teacher was a thankless, near-impossible job for the most patient of people, and even on her best days Mrs. Yamamoto would not count herself among that particular group.

She wasn't going to let herself get complacent in her final days, tempting though it was. Mrs. Yamamoto was unwilling to risk her pension plan in any way, and if that meant toning down her visible contempt to passable levels for one more year then so be it. She could recycle old lesson plans, always have crosswords available, and get through this.

* * *

Or so she thought. Then, two days after the start of term, a relative of one of her students joined her class. She had tried arguing with the principal, furiously pointing out that her class was at full capacity; after the gum incident they didn't even have a _desk_ available for him. But the principal remained unconvinced, spinning Mrs. Yamamoto some sob story about how he was an _orphan_ and the only person he knew here was his second cousin Yuuto, and it would be so _helpful_ and the boys could share a desk if need be and blah blah. Mrs. Yamamoto, too exhausted to do more than let out one more deep sigh, relented and let Natsume Takashi into her class.

"Give me that," Yuuto authoritatively demanded, his mouth twisted into a frown. His cousin sent him a half-hearted glare, clutching the lime green crayon protectively to his chest. Yuuto glared back impatiently, and Natsume relented, eyes dropping down to his unfinished drawing as he reluctantly handed over the crayon.

Mrs. Yamamoto barely held back a snort. Most middle school children were unruly nightmares and Yuuto was no different. He was a bit of a loud-mouth and seemed to take particular exception to the presence of his cousin, kicking the smaller boy under the desk and haranguing him constantly. Lots of kids were bullies at this age, this wasn't anything too unusual. Certainly nothing she could be bothered to do anything about.

Natsume picked up a different color with a put-upon sigh and went back to his map-making assignment, seemingly resigned to the fact that his China was now going to be two different shades of green.

Other than his bull-headed cousin, Natsume seemed to be fitting in alright. The school was big enough that new students weren't exactly rare, but between his sob story and his immediate and obvious rivalry with his cousin, Natsume had made a bit of a splash. True to form, the other kids were intensely interested in him, though the shine was starting to wear off as Natsume settled in as a fairly quiet and incredibly average child.

"I want that one now." Yuuto said, throwing down the lime-green crayon without having used it. Natsume ignored him, focusing on finishing coloring in part of his map, but his view was obstructed by Yuuto's hand coming up to wave in an impatiently gesture.

"I need to finish this." Natsume replied carefully, still not looking up at the other boy.

"Yeah, well, I need it. We're supposed to _share_ , remember? If I have to share my apartment and my toys and my _desk,_ since you had nothing before you came to stay with us, the least you could do is share the crayon." Yuuto's voice had steadily risen until it was just under a yell, not out of anger, but out of a calculated desire to have his classmates overhear. Mrs. Yamamoto had to hand it to the kid, he was craftier than the average bully.

Natsume silently handed over the crayon, his cheeks flushing red. Some other kids were snickering, but more seemed uncomfortable.

"Leave him alone!" a girl named Hinata said furiously, stalking over to Yuuto and snatching the crayon out of his hand and slamming it down on the table. "You're being a jerk, Yuuto."

Mrs. Yamamoto felt as though she should probably intervene considering Hinata's past propensity toward biting other children, but couldn't work up the energy. The kids would probably sort it out on their own, and really, kids needed to learn to deal with their own bullies.

"Hinata!" Yuuto cried, appalled, "You don't get it! He's totally the jerk! He's always lying and saying weird things." Hinata looked skeptical, but before she could argue back the bell signifying the end of the day rang.

* * *

The next day, Mrs. Yamamoto was incredibly amused to see Hinata and a gaggle of students that normally made up part of Yuuto's little group sitting with Natsume. She didn't anticipate this kind of break from routine in her last year.

When Yuuto noticed his friends sitting with his relative, he pointed a finger at them while shaking his head. When his dramatics finally got his friend's attention he narrowed his eyes and sternly said, "You'll see. You'll try to be nice to him, but you'll see."

This time Mrs. Yamamoto didn't bother to hold back her laugh. Honestly, twelve-year olds were so damn melodramatic. Yuuto didn't seem to notice her snickers as he slowly walked to his usual table. Natsume looked pale and shocked, remaining silent as his new-found classmates returned to whatever inane topic tweens talked about.

True to Yuuto's little theatrical display, the tides seemed to gradually shift. The first defector wasn't a surprising choice: Hikaru had always been somewhat enamored with Yuuto. The two boys were whispering furiously during quiet reading time, oblivious to the fact that even their whispers could wake the dead.

"You were right, he really was totally weird after school! Who lies like that? He seemed so normal." Hikaru exclaimed, shooting a look at said boy. Natsume was determinedly staring his book.

"Yep," Yuuto replied smugly, "That's how he gets you. Acts all nice at first. We got along at first too, he used to sleep in my room but he was so weird and kept me up so now he sleeps in the living room." Mrs. Yamamoto blinked. Yikes. That sounded… not great.

"My mom is always nice to him but he's so…" Yuuto was openly glaring at Natsume now, not even bothering with the pretense of his book, "Whatever. Someone else has gotta take him in soon."

Mrs. Yamamoto eyed Natsume, who looked upset, but thankfully not crying-level of upset. What a mess.

"Boys! Go back to reading," Mrs. Yamamoto commanded, figuring she'd give Natsume a break. They guiltily looked up, startled at being caught, before picking up their books again. Having done all she was willing to do, Mrs. Yamamoto returned her crossword.

* * *

Over the next few days, other kids went back to Yuuto's side. Whispers of what a liar Natsume was seemed to dominate every conversation Mrs. Yamamoto overheard. One boy giggling at Natsume's tendency to randomly startle; another girl looking distinctly unimpressed, staring directly at Natsume as Yuuto told her how many places the other boy had lived before landing at Yuuto's. It got to the point that other kids weren't just avoiding Natsume, but helping Yuuto pick on him.

Natsume had looked progressively more pathetic about it as well, positively moping. He no longer volunteered to read during story time and always had to be paired by Mrs. Yamamoto when it came time to work with a partner. Though steadfastly committed to the idea of letting kids sort it their problems out for themselves, even she was beginning to feel a little bad for him.

Figuring that the principal was both better at mediation and better at dealing with parents, she decided to swing by her office and ask her to deal with this. It was her fault Natsume was even in this class, after all.

* * *

On Monday Natsume volunteered to read again; things seem to settle. Yuuto still sent the other boy nasty glares but seemed to keep his comments to himself. Mrs. Yamamoto soon, frankly, forgot all about the whole ordeal—she was a little caught up in planning her first vacation in years. Things trudged along as normal, the school seemingly dragging on at an abysmally slow pace.

That is, until she was randomly called in for an after school meeting regarding Natsume

Mrs. Yamamoto had been called into the principal's office one day after school had let out; she was asked to bring a copy of his grades and any projects he might have been working on. Of course the kid just had to have problems with the principal when they were doing solar system models, Mrs. Yamamoto thought with an eye-roll. Natsume's wasn't the worse she had ever seen by a long-shot, but it wasn't great exactly the Mona Lisa. Still, the boy had put a lot of effort into it and seemed really excited about it. So she dutifully dragged the kid's model down the hall along with a copy of her gradebook.

When she finally arrived Yuuto was sitting in a chair outside of the principal's office, cheerfully swinging his legs and looking suspiciously smug for a kid outside of the head disciplinarian's office. Odd. The principal hadn't even mentioned Yuuto. Surely if Natsume was getting in trouble, so was the other, more ornery boy? The door next to him was ajar so Mrs. Yamamoto shamelessly moved in to listen.

A soft-spoken woman was obviously in the middle of a long tirade: "—Natsume, honey, if you would have just _tried_ that's all we were asking! Just try with Yuuto and we could have—"

"I did!" Natsume cut in, his voice breaking. He was louder than Mrs. Yamamoto had ever heard him. "I did try! I let him do _whatever_ because you asked and—"

"Yuuto says that you didn't." A man's voice interrupted definitively.

"But—but, I…" Natsume stuttered out in reply, his voice suddenly pathetically soft. Mrs. Yamamoto winced.

The principal decided to put Natsume out of his misery. "This isn't productive. You said the decision was made. I would have obviously preferred that you had told Natsume this earlier, but what's done is done." Oh yeah, the principal definitely sounded disapproving. Mrs. Yamamoto was dying to know what they were talking about at this point.

She reached up to knock on the door when she noticed Yuuto also leaning toward the crack, a small smile on his face. She narrowed her eyes at the kid. "No eavesdropping!" she scolded severely.

Yuuto looked up at her, shocked, before his expression turned absolutely mutinous. " _You_ were eavesdropping!" He accused.

"Adults are allowed to," she snapped back, briskly knocking on the door and entering. With a bit of her own smirk, Mrs. Yamamoto made eye contact with Yuuto as she firmly closed the door.

Sure enough, the principal was sitting behind her desk looking exasperatedly at the man and women Mrs. Yamamoto had heard. Natsume looked sullen and downcast, not even bothering to lift his eyes from his shoes as she entered.

"I brought the things you asked for." Mrs. Yamamoto said neutrally, setting the papers and project on the desk. Confused and a bit uncomfortable, she figured she had might as well try: "Can I ask what they're for?"

"Great, thanks. You should probably know anyway. Natsume will no longer by a student of ours. He's moving." The principal replied.

Mrs. Yamamoto's eyebrows shot up. "Oh wow, how exciting. Should I have brought Yuuto's things as well?"

The atmosphere of the room got decidedly chillier. There was a beat of silence before the man to Mrs. Yamamoto's left let out a quiet "No."

"Just Natsume is moving." The note of disapproval in the principal's voice became markedly stronger as she explained.

The woman closed her eyes, looking embarrassed and near tears. Not knowing what to say and regretting asking quite a bit, Mrs. Yamamoto simply nodded and turned to leave.

She hadn't taken but a step before the woman burst out in a semi-hysterical voice, "It's not—we _tried_ and the boys they're just not getting along. We have to look out for our real son first. We're not bad people."

Jesus. Like there was a single universe in which Mrs. Yamamoto wanted to hear this lady complain. She was suddenly very grateful she couldn't see Natsume's face. Not knowing how to handle this little display, Mrs. Yamamoto briskly left the office and went to hide out in her office until she was sure they all had left.

When she finally did make her way out she noticed Natsume's solar system model sitting atop the trashcan.

* * *

 **(A/N: Chapter 2, finally! I hope you enjoyed this veritable bucket of angst. I promise this fic ends happily. I'm absurdly swamped with a whole bunch of houseguests for Thanksgiving so I cant even pretend to guess when the next chapter will be up but hopefully soon? Only one more to go!)**


	3. Something New

**(A/N: The final chapter! Yay. Thank you so, so much for reading and reviewing. Seriously, your comments have gotten me through some rough days. I hope you enjoy the end of this fic.)**

* * *

Natsume Takashi was a common topic of discussion in the teacher's lounge.

He wasn't even really new by this point, though he would probably be called "the new transfer student" until someone else came along; he was generally quiet and unassuming, but garnered attention because of some of his more… _idiosyncratic_ tendencies. He was a little bit spacey, prone to the occasional odd outburst, and was an incredible magnet for trouble; so much so that "just another Natsume thing" had become slang at school for something weird but benign.

He also had an obvious and irritating penchant for falling asleep in class. This was Mr. Kobayashi's biggest peeve and yet... he liked Natsume. He seemed to have a good head on his shoulders. It had taken him a bit but Natsume seemed to fit right in: he was well-liked and had a consistent group of friends looking out for him. Mr. Kobayashi was glad. He hadn't been sure Natsume would be welcomed considering the gossip that had surrounded his arrival.

It wasn't like rumors were _rare_ , on the contrary, there were always some with new students, especially in a small town like this. Before Natsume arrived, Mr. Kobayashi had been positive he heard it all: drugs, pregnancies, even the occasional accusation of gang activity.

But these had seemed different. So odd, even for bored high schoolers prone to gossip. First off, they included things like spirits and ghosts, which even the most unsettling of new kids had never seemed to garner. Secondly, Natsume's school records indicated the rumors of being bounced around incredibly often were true. It was rare enough that the whispers surrounding had any semblance of truth to them but especially something as dramatic as Natsume's checkered past.

Just as students were interested in someone new and different, teachers couldn't help but follow suit. They were people too, after all, and Natsume Takashi gave people plenty to talk about. Things had just been so much _livelier_ since he had arrived. Confirmed celebrities and alleged ghosts turned out to just be the beginning.

However, lately, the nature of the rumors had been decidedly darker: namely that Natsume's flinches weren't a souvenir of his tumultuous upbringing, but rather a sign that he had never actually escaped the trauma.

Mr. Kobayashi didn't like to get overly invested. He had seen numerous students come and go in his 15 years of teaching, and while he always did his best to educate and encourage, he had seen too many students succumb to apathy or violence to want to try beyond what was expected of him in a professional capacity. Too many kids he couldn't help.

Takashi hadn't actually even come to him for help and these _were_ just rumors. He probably shouldn't pay them any mind… But some of the other rumors had been true, and if this was then Mr. Kobayashi had an obligation to at least _try_.

* * *

First, Mr. Kobayashi needed to decide what was credible before we went around making allegations.

Some of the rumors were obvious and self-evident: Takashi had been pale and visibly exhausted, falling asleep in class nearly everyday. Mr. Kobayashi could only sometimes tamp down on the urge to drop a textbook on the floor to abruptly wake Takashi. As concerned as he felt for his student, he really _really_ hated when kids did that.

A lot of teenagers were tired. In fact, _most_ were. However (and maybe Mr. Kobayashi was just getting soft in his old age) most teenagers didn't constantly look so beaten down and weary.

Then there was the flinching. Takashi was always prone to somewhat comically disproportionate overreactions to a sudden noise or movement, even going as far as to bodily react when there was nothing there. Mr. Kobayashi had been convinced that the other kids would make fun of him for it, but nowadays gentle and friendly ribbing was the worst of it; even that had dropped off as the new rumors had started up.

None of this was conclusive. Teenagers were prone to mood-swings. Takashi had a famously kind disposition, but no one was perfect. The kid was entitled to off days or even off months, as the case may be.

The bruises, however, _were_ pretty conclusive.

Mr. Kobayashi is pretty sure he would never have noticed them if it hadn't been for the characteristically loud exclamations of Nishimura, one of Natsume's friends.

Natsume had narrowly avoided being late, skidding into the classroom just as class began. Mr. Kobayashi suppressed an eye-roll at Natsume's muttered, barely audible excuse as he briskly walked to his desk and removed his coat.

"Woah, woah, what is that on your face?" Nishimura's voice rang out right as Mr. Kobayashi opened his mouth to begin class, "What's wrong with your arm? Are those _bruises?_ "

All eyes dutifully slid over to the racket being made in the corner of the room, Mr. Kobayashi's included. Sure enough a ring of finger-shaped bruises surrounded Natsume's forearm much too large to be Natsume's own, as well as a cut just under his eye that was held together with butterfly bandages.

" _Hush."_ Natsume hissed in the self-possessed way Nishimura seemed to inspire in people.

Natsume glanced around nervously. It was fairly obvious everyone had heard.

"We're talking about this later." Nishimura mutinously hissed back, making a unsucessful effort to lower the volume of his voice. Mr. Kobayashi loudly cleared his throat and began class but silently agreed with Nishimura: they would be talking about this, and soon.

* * *

Mr. Kobayashi let the boys have their lunch undisturbed but asked Nishimura to meet him in his office as soon as class was over.

Nishimura bounded into his office, starting in before Mr. Kobayashi could even greet him. "I didn't mean to interrupt this morning, really, but it was super important—"

"Nishimura," He firmly cut off, "I'm not mad about this morning." Well, that wasn't quite true. "I mean, you shouldn't interrupt and you really need to work on your indoor voice but that's not what this is about. It's about Natsume"

"Oh." Nishimura regarded Mr. Kobayashi suspiciously as he took a seat. In any other circumstances it would be kind of funny.

"Did Natsume tell you how he got those bruises?" Mr. Kobayashi asked, gentling his tone.

Nishimura sighed, looking about ten years older than he normally did. "No," he bit out shortly. Mr. Kobayashi wasn't so sure he believed that.

"Is he being bullied?" Mr. Kobayashi hadn't seen any evidence of that lately but that certainly didn't mean it was impossible. Though Natsume's last bully had been taken care of fairly swiftly and with surprising coordination by his classmates, that didn't mean another one was out of the question.

"No!" Nishimura said and then paused. "At least not at school. We would know."

It was a fair assumption. It wasn't a huge school and word tended to travel fast. Mr. Kobayashi grimaced. That left some sort of odd after-school bully or...home. Which meant Natsume's family. Which meant child abuse.

Mr. Kobayashi was tempted to dismiss something so dramatic out of hand. Foster parents didn't always mean abuse, didn't even _often_ mean abuse and Mr. Kobayashi had never heard anything negative about the Fujiwaras… but Natsume's tendency to flinch at air _wasn't_ just a rumor; the clear image of the kid's bruises tugged sharply at Mr. Kobayashi's conscience.

"What about… not at school?" Mr. Kobayashi began delicately, not sure how to best ask this. Nishimura's eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

"Like…?" Nishimura prompted confusedly.

"Like at his home." Mr. Kobayashi replied.

Nishimura remained visibly baffled for another few seconds before pure shock contorted his face. "What?! No way! Natsume _adores_ his parents, everyone knows that. They're super nice."

Mr. Kobayashi kept his face neutral but internally remained skeptical. Plenty of bad situations looked completely fine from the outside.

Nishimura could clearly sense his lack of belief and didn't await a response before continuing. "No, seriously. Ask Natsume. Something obviously happened but not… not that."

Mr. Kobayashi nodded slowly. He would ask Natsume.

* * *

Natsume's mouth was hanging open.

Under normal circumstances Mr. Kobayashi would quip about catching flies to try and instill some manners into his student, but now was definitely not the time. Mr. Kobayashi had wanted to figure this situation out as soon as possible so he had asked Natsume to stay behind during lunch. Natsume had looked guarded but agreed readily enough. Seeing no point in wasting time, Mr. Kobayashi had asked him point-blank if he was being abused. The question seemed to have shocked Natsume into an extended silence.

"No." Natsume finally bit out emphatically, his tone blatantly hostile. Mr. Kobayashi was a bit taken aback. Natsume took a deep breath and mechanically lowered his shoulders from where they had risen defensively.

"No," he repeated, slightly calmer, "No. The Fujiwaras—they—they would _never._ They're lovely. They're _perfect_ , alright, better than I—" Natsume's voice had begun to shake before he cut himself off.

Mr. Kobayashi felt his eyebrows raise at the tail end of that remark even as his hands came up in a pacifying gesture. That kind of knee-jerk self-deprecation was learned.

"Where did you get those bruises, then?" Mr. Kobayashi asked looking down at Natsume's wrist. Natsume automatically went to cover his wrist like if the bruises weren't visible they wouldn't matter anymore.

"I… I'm really clumsy, sir." Still polite through his desperation. It was hard to listen to. "I mean, you've seen me in class. I'm prone to accidents." And there was the mechanical recitation of a lie. Mr. Kobayashi was pretty familiar with figuring out when kids were lying. That was red flag number two.

"Natsume, just tell me what's really going on. I just want to help." Mr. Kobayashi tried again.

Natsume sullenly mumbled "You wouldn't believe me."

Maybe they were getting somewhere. Mr. Kobayashi leaned back in his chair. "Why don't you try me?"

"Fine." Natsume's voice was almost brittle. It was startling coming from someone as typically mild-mannered as Natsume. "They just appear. It'd look like nothing to _you_ , but here they are."

Mr. Kobayashi sighed disappointedly. This conversation obviously wasn't going anywhere productive. He would have to schedule a home visit, or at the very least call in the Fujiwaras. Natsume was watching him carefully and seemed to guess at what he was thinking.

"Don't bother them. They would never hurt me and I don't want to cause trouble for them." Natsume's voice was still shaking even as he made it a point to make eye contact with him.

Mr. Kobayashi didn't respond, not wanting to make promises he couldn't keep. Natsume looked vaguely ill.

* * *

Mr. Kobayashi called in the Fujiwaras. A woman's pleasant voice had answered the phone, which had turned frantic with apparent worry when he said that they needed to discuss Natsume. After repeated assurances that Natsume wasn't in any immediate danger, Mrs. Fujiwara agreed for her and her husband to come in for a meeting.

Mr. Kobayashi wanted to be reassured by her concerned reaction to his call but refused to let himself. He had to see this through properly.

After the classroom had been cleaned and students sent out, Mr. Kobayashi waited for the Fujiwaras to arrive. He could hear Natsume nervously shuffling just outside of the closed classroom door. He had told Natsume that he needed to meet with his foster parents alone and Natsume had taken that to mean that he should hover just outside the door. He probably shouldn't let them see each other at all before he got the bottom of this but he was exhausted from trying to wrangle an openly defiant teenager for the past few hours.

Make that _several_ openly defiant teenagers. Natsume didn't have time to tell his friends what was going on before class resumed, but apparently Natsume being upset at all was a good enough reason for half of his class to turn mutinous. Stony silence met most of his attempts to engage.

No matter what acts of defiance it might cause in his classroom, Mr. Kobayashi continued with his plan.

It wasn't long before he could hear Natsume's teary voice greeting someone outside. "I'm so sorry. I have no idea why this is happening."

"Oh, sweetheart," the kind voice from the phone replied, "It's okay. Whatever's going on, it's okay."

"We'll figure it out." A new, masculine voice added reassuringly.

After a few seconds the three of them entered, Natsume tucked between them.

"Hi there," the man—Mr. Fujiwara— greeted genially, "We're Natsume's parents."

* * *

Mr. Kobayashi left the conversation with three major observations:

The first was that Natsume's uncomfortable earnestness ran in his adopted family. They spent the first couple of minutes of the conference being talked out of keeping Natsume (who was all for staying) in the room. Once he left and the actual reason for their being called in was explained, they spent the next few minutes having to be forcibly stopped from going to make sure Natsume was okay themselves. The Fujiwaras had been horrified and then instantly willing to do anything to make sure Natsume was okay: immediately giving tearful and painfully sincere apologies for not noticing this sooner.

At this point Natsume had burst back into the room in an apparent effort to try and comfort Mrs. Fujiwara ("Please, Touko," she had politely said through her tears, even as he somewhat accused her of abusing her foster kid. Suddenly Natsume's manners made a bit more sense.) and Mr. Kobayashi had to deal with _that_.

The second observation was that Natsume's occasional hostility _also_ ran in the family. Their devastation mixed with a quiet anger as they speculated on who could have hurt Natsume. Their anger initially seemed to justify his fears but, then, frankly he had seen parents more aggressive with him over the fact that he had given their kid a B instead of an A. This anger, just like Natsume's earlier in the day, seemed to come from a defensive, wounded place.

The third thing was that this family was almost shockingly functional. They were willing to be investigated to whatever extent Mr. Kobayashi deemed necessary. They expressed their desire to talk out everything that happened with Natsume, but were also more than willing to send him into the hallway to see if Natsume would be more comfortable talking to a counselor first.

"We're going to make this right," Touko said, voice shaking but steadfast. Natsume seemed to really take after her. "Takashi is the best thing to ever happen to us. We love him."

Mr. Fujiwara nodded solemnly. "He's our son."

This time Mr. Kobayashi didn't bother to stop Natsume when he burst back into the room.

True to their word, the Fujiwaras submitted to every measure Mr. Kobayashi thought up: a session of family therapy, a random home inspection. By this point he was pretty damn convinced of their innocence.

Students took their cue from Natsume (who seemed to hold a grudge despite reassuring Mr. Kobayashi that he appreciated his concern) and treated him with suspicion for months after the incident.

But that still left the question: who had hurt Natsume?

* * *

This question turned out to be answered in the way most things surrounding Natsume tended to: absurdly and mysteriously.

Class had let out and been cleaned, only Natsume left in the classroom when Mr. Kobayashi returned for some forgotten papers. Natsume seemed to be talking to himself. He hesitated to interrupt. Things were still icy at best between him and Natsume. He listened, baffled, to Natsume's quiet "Stop. No, come on."

Curiosity overpowering his inclination to avoid Natsume, Mr. Kobayashi entered the classroom.

Natsume instantly saw him and dropped the broom he was holding in surprise, letting out a quick "ow!" and looking down at his forearm.

Plainly visibly was rapidly forming bruises in the shape of fingers. Exactly where they had been weeks earlier, though they had been completely healed just this morning. At least Mr. Kobayashi could be sure he wasn't being abused, he thought somewhat hysterically.

Mr. Kobayashi, in an effort to prevent his understanding of the world from unraveling, decidedly and definitively filed this away as just another Natsume thing.


End file.
